


Hold Tight

by Ruby_Wednesday



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Disney World & Disneyland, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 04:26:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11433138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruby_Wednesday/pseuds/Ruby_Wednesday
Summary: met bc they were single riders on a roller coaster auAfter being abandoned by his family, Laurent waits in line alone for the roller coaster. Until Damen joins him.





	Hold Tight

**Author's Note:**

> Idea credit to the AU Bot I follow on twitter. Written very quickly, without planning or editing. Don't hate me Disney aficionados if anything is inaccurate.

-

No-one was more surprised than Laurent when he agreed to go on Auguste’s family vacation. Well, maybe agreed was the wrong word. Maybe he had realised that these were the only dates where their time off work matched and he’d had a whole plan in his head of taking his niece and nephew to the stables and the old-fashioned ice-cream place and that cool new interactive art museum over by the hospital. Auguste had blown that wide open by announcing that he had booked flights to Orlando.

Orlando, Florida.

It had taken quite a while for Laurent to let that sink in.

His choices were : mope alone at home for a week or tag along on the Disney trip. That wasn’t a choice at all, once he saw the excitement on the kids’ faces.

So maybe he didn’t agree. Maybe he invited himself along, upgraded their accommodation to adjoining club level suites in a deluxe resort, (The Polynesian because the Grand Floridian was just too obvious, you know?) and spent several nights stalking blogs and forums until he came up with the best possible timetable.

“Couldn’t we just wing it?” Auguste had asked, when Laurent showed him the ADR and Fastpass+® schedule.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You should have gone with the beachside villa in Jamaica if you wanted to relax.”

“Right. How foolish of me to want to be spontaneous during a vacation.”

But the best laid plans could always be thwarted by the whims of a moody teen and an even moodier four year old girl, who just last week had thrown an almighty tantrum because her hot pink Barbie car wasn’t pink enough.

Day Three in The Happiest Place on Earth® and Laurent was alone. Nicaise abandoned him for the pool and wifi and the oppurtunity to flirt with bewildered older lifeguards. Baby Henni, who was not so much a baby anymore but the name had stuck, had a stomach upset which was only possibly brought in by Laurent spending all his snack credits on ice-creams for her. He didn’t like to think about what had Auguste and his dear wife retreating to their room.

 **Nicaise:** Dude, just come back to the pool.  
**Laurent** : Do you know how difficult it is to get a fastpass for toy story mania? I am not wasting it  
**Nicaise** : u suck. Why so uptight? They have cocktails in pineapples and the lifeguards are cute  
**Laurent** : we cannot think the same people are cute. I’m your uncle. And I’ll be back for Ohana.  
**Nicaise** : eyeroll.gif

He zipped his phone back into his pocket. Generally, Laurent wasn’t a fan of pants with zipped pockets but he wasn’t about to risk losing his phone on any of the rides. And he had quickly learned that bags at Disney were for amateurs and parents. You could get in so much quicker if you could skip the bagcheck queue. All he needed was his Magic Band® (grey because he wasn’t so far gone as to get a customised one) and his phone. That’s how simple life could be in Disney. Everything connected, everything monitored and sanitised and controlled within an inch of its life. If you thought about it too hard, it felt a shade too Orwellian for anyone with healthy critical thinking skills. But Laurent was on vacation. He didn’t think about how weird it was that he had willingly worn a chipped bracelet which transmitted his data to a major corporation. He didn’t dwell on the fact he was a grown adult alone in what was essentially an expensive child’s playground. He didn’t think about how hot and stinky the character costumes must be or that they just had to attract a large proportion of furries. He had long lost all sense of money meaning anything when he’d honestly believed that forty dollars was a reasonable price to pay for a Men’s T-Shirt emblazoned with a cartoon mouse.

He was in Disney, damnit, and he allowed the magic to sweep him away. Nowhere could be safer or more wholesome. In his daily life, Laurent curses like a sailor who hasn’t yet realised he’s on shoreleave. Yesterday, he heard someone say damn when they dropped their Dole Whip® and he was both shocked and appalled at the language. Generally, Laurent is somewhat of a cynic. But he could leave that behind here. There was something special about the atmosphere, the theming, the happy screaming from the Tower of Terror and the little boy skipping by with a yellow Belle dress over his clothes.

Since he had time to kill, Laurent dodged the old Hollywood performers on the street (getting singled out as a pretend Prince Charming by the Wicked Stepsisters at yesterday’s breakfast was quite enough, thank you) and made his way down the boulevard. He ignored the temptation of a corndog, weaved through the crowd coming out of the Theatre of the Stars, with one destination in mind : The Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster Starring Aerosmith®.

If he was going to be alone in Disney, he might as well be in Hollywood Studios which was ostensibly more mature than some of the other parks. Unlike Epcot, it didn't have the drunken hordes working their way around the World Showcase. Adult nerds flocked to the Star Wars stuff (he could say that because he was one.) You could buy alcohol in select locations. The Cars show even impressed Nicaise. And it had, side by side, two of the most extreme rides in this wholesome cluster of theme parks.

They’d FastPassed Tower of Terror and Rock’n’Roller Coaster before his companions had called it quits. But Laurent wanted seconds. He had time to kill and adrenaline to chase. The music drew him in. He went by the big guitar and saw the welcome words like a beacon : Single Riders.  
With a standby queue of fifty minutes, it was the only way to go. And, yes, he was a genuine single rider. All he could hope for was that he didn’t get lumbered with an annoying family. Earlier, they’d had the unfortunate experience of queuing with a Disney enthusiast who spent most of the time complaining about the re-theming of his favourite ride. Perhaps, since he was on vacation, Laurent would have been magnanimous to allow him this quibble, except said ride was located on the other side of the country.

“Um,” Nicaise had piped up, in that too-sweet way that always led to trouble. “I personally think Guardians of the Galaxy is an improvement.”

They were lucky their queue companion didn’t die of a heart attack right there.

Laurent followed the up and down pattern of the rope queue, without paying attention. You didn’t even have to focus on walking here. The paths were all marked for you. He had taken out his phone with the intention of Googling how many people die here daily, but a bunch of Snapchat notifications had distracted him. Nicaise was drawing red circles around the parts of the lifeguards he found most appealing. Laurent was going to have to have a stern word with him again soon and this time it wouldn’t be diluted by the fact Laurent had screenshotted similar snaps before he knew the sender would know.

He reached the end of the queue, while watching a quick video of Henni playing with her towel animals (Eeyore today!) and rested one shoulder against the wall while he waited. Single Rider shouldn’t take too long. But any rest was welcome on these hectic days. And as it turned out, there were heaps of weird and interesting facts about Disney World to keep one amused as they queued alone for a rollercoaster. Such as mouse-catching cats and underground tunnels and the quiet removal of politically incorrect features. Laurent had missed all this in his flurry of research when they’d booked tickets.

He only looked up when someone cleared their throat behind him. Someone…..incredibly handsome. Tall, muscular, strong chiselled features under a mop of brown curls. And those arms….Laurent had never wanted to squeeze a stranger’s bicep before. Perhaps the time spent observing Gaston over in the Magic Kingdom had corrupted him.

“Are you waiting?” he asked, in a warm, amused voice.

“Yes, why else would I be here?” Laurent snapped.

The man shrugged. God, it should be against the law for him to do anything that draws attention to those arms. And shoulders. He should go to Disney Jail for bringing lewd and salacious behavior to this innocent place.

“Lots of reasons,” the man replied. “You could be an undercover Cast Member. You could be fleeing your crazy family. You could be about to do the walk of shame back down the line.”

“I’m not afraid of a kiddie coaster,” Laurent said.

“How am I supposed to know that? Oh, is it a hookup thing?” At least he lowered his voice for the word hookup. “I read an article once about a guy who came here and met heaps of guys on Grindr.”

“No.” Laurent used his coldest tone of voice. Hopefully, it compensated for how hot his cheeks were getting. Straight Guys just don’t namedrop gay hookup apps like that.

“Then why are you just standing here?”

Laurent whipped his head around.The people ahead of him in line had long since moved on to the next stage. Nothing like the illusion of being closer to the top to get people moving. If memory served there was memorabilia and perhaps animatronics to soon admire and distract you from how long you were waiting. Perhaps if you thought about it a little hard, Disney World was an extended metaphor for human existence.

“Well,” he said, fighting through embarrassment. “I seem to not have noticed the line moving on. By all means, pass me out. I am sorry to have delayed you.”

“Nah. I’m good here. We better walk though or they’ll send the security team after us. There’s cameras everywhere.”

“Scary,” said Laurent, as he shuffled forward.

“I thought you weren’t afraid.” With an unmistakable tone, and when Laurent glanced over his shoulder, an admiring scroll of his eyes. The handsome stranger was flirting. Laurent liked how it made his heart flutter. Or maybe that was the anticipation of the roller coaster. The dark queue, the bright lights, the thumping music were all carefully placed for maximum effect. They were working.

See, Laurent didn’t normally respond to flirting.

But he didn’t normally find cartoon princes brought to life attractive and he had experienced a Moment when the kids met Aladdin. Call it Disney Magic. Call it having fun. This guy was extremely good-looking and Laurent had to pass the time in line some way.

“I’m not,” Laurent replied, aware of the timbre change in his own voice. “Maybe I’m excited.”

The man nodded, like he approved.

“I’m Damen,” he said.

“Laurent.”

“Nice name.”

“Thanks. My parents thought so, too.”

They were almost caught up with the rest of the eclectic mix of people in the Single Rider queue. Sometimes, if you were pressed for time and joined Single Rider with your party, you might luck out and get seated together. Maybe that would happen here, Laurent thought. He wished now he had brought some cash instead of relying on the magic band around his wrist. You couldn’t attempt to bribe the Cast Member loading the ride without money.

“So, are you here alone?” Damen asked. Thankfully, the person ahead had their headphones in. After that, a group of Germans who could probably speak English just fine but the chatter of a foreign language made the whole thing more private.

“That’s the nature of the Single Rider line,” Laurent replied. “Less waiting. More solitude. Frankly, I could apply this principle to many more things in life.”

“I meant here.” He waved around. Single Rider meant you skipped some of the entertaining parts of the queue. This was just dark, industrial,  
sparse. They were going for the backstage thing. “The park. Orlando.”

Laurent shook his head. “No. What kind of functional, grown adult comes to Disney alone?”

The easy smile faded from Damen’s face.

“Ouch,” he said. “That’s judgmental.”

“I didn’t mean —”

“Forget it.” Damen unlocked his screen and wasn’t that a clear indicator he was done talking. . Laurent scrambled to regain some measure of  
control. He often spoke candidly, because he preferred to intimidate people than endear himself to them. But Damen was not one of those people.

Any second now, Laurent was going to think of something clever to say. He could redeem himself. He’d earned respect before

“Do —” He began, and at the same time a cheery voice came over the speakers. The ride was currently experiencing difficulties and would temporarily cease operation. Of course, Disney had a different way of putting it but the effect was the same. Especially once people began to express their disappointment with groans and PG13 expressions of annoyances. Cast Members appeared (perhaps from the walls) informing the patrons that though they could not make promises, it shouldn’t take too much longer. Some people left with coveted Anytime Return to Any Ride Fastpasses.

“I’ll wait,” said Headphones Man. “Stoppages like this are usually just because someone has trouble getting on or off. It will be back up and running in no time.” He said it with an air of confidence and a knowing look towards the Cast Member whose tag read Charls and who of course not neither deny or confirm.

“Hang tight, folks. We’ll keep you posted,” said Charls.

“I’ll wait,” Damen said. “No point queuing twice.”

“Me too,” said Laurent, and kissed goodbye to his coveted Midway Mania Fastpass. He also leaned against the wall, one foot pressed behind him. Damen stretched. Maybe he was trying to torment him. “Did you know Aerosmith weren’t first choice?” Laurent dredged up one of the facts he read on one of the forums.

“No. I am not a total Disney nerd.” Still defensive.

“Hey.” With a nod towards Headphones Man. “Don’t insult the other guests.” That raised the hint of a smile. “I think The Rolling Stones were the  
first ones approached.”

“I like Mick Jagger,” Damen said.

“Who doesn’t?”

“Lots of people with bad taste.”

“I like his style,” said Laurent.

Damen treated him to a sidelong smile. “I can imagine.”

“Wait. What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Because you’re the only person I have seen here in tailored shorts and a fitted shirt.”

“Can’t let the standards slip just because you’re on vacation,” Laurent replied. “Anyway, I think U2 was the next pick. Can you imagine? Bono would probably give a lecture instead of the spiel about the limo.”

“I like their music.”

“Only the stuff released in the previous century,” Laurent said."The eighties, to be specific."

“That’s all I like? I thought I got to decide that.”

“That’s all anyone is allowed to acknowledge.”

“Bossy, aren’t you?”

“Is that a problem?”

Damen shook his head. “Tell me,” he said. “Who are you here with?”

“My brother and his family are doing the kiddy thing,” Laurent said. “They’re back at the hotel. Couldn’t hack it. And you?”

“I can hack it.”

“Yes, I can imagine.” Laurent could imagine Damen hacking some logs with an axe. Hello, new fantasy. “I’m sorry if —”

“I was meant to come here with my ex,” Damen interrupted. “She had a whole princess thing as a kid and I thought she would like the fireworks and the castle. It was booked and paid for a long time ago and …”

“You came alone instead?” Laurent wanted to give him an out.

“My friend joined me for a couple days but he mostly golfed,” Damen said. “He was also the one who convinced me to not let the money go to waste. But it wasn’t really about the money. I guess…she had too much say over my happiness.”

“That’s not good.”

“You don’t think other people can make you happy?”

“Only if they’re worth it,” Laurent replied, then looked down at his shoes.

“She was cheating. With my brother. Oh, and he tried to have me written out of my father’s will. The whole thing was a bit of a nuisance.”

“Yes,” said Laurent. “How irritating.” He was impressed with the way Damen could sound so blase. “Hey, if you can’t find an antidote in the happiest place on earth…”

“You might as well be made of stone.”

Laurent had to bite his lip to keep in a comment about Damen looking as if he was carved from marble.

“Are you at least enjoying it?” he asked, instead.

“Disney?” With a sheepish expression. “Honestly, yes. The staff treat everyone so kindly and ….I don’t know….it’s nice to escape, I guess. What about you?”

“Yes. I’ve surprised myself by how much I like it. Not my brother, though. He says he was sure I would love it more than the kids.”

“You’re close?”

“It’s just us.”

“That’s nice.”

“Being orphaned?”

Damen looked Laurent dead in the eye. He was not thrown by his comments. “No. Having a brother.”

Somewhere beyond the walls, the ride came to life again. You could hear the acceleration and the sound effects and the what-passed-for-spontaneous applause from the Cast Members. Headphones Man turned, smugly, and Laurent really did not have time to validate a stranger right now. Another stranger. He could spend lots of time validating Damen.

“Looks like we’re back in action,” he said, and they moved along through the line. “So where are you staying?”

“The Contemporary.”

“I’m in the Polynesian. Just a couple of monorail stops away,” Laurent said.

“Interesting.” Damen had a look in his eyes that made the rest of the ride fade away. He found Laurent interesting, at least his presence. He was very handsome and single and ….shit. He was on the rebound. And potentially straight. Or bi. Hopefully bi. Laurent usually could read people pretty easily. But he rarely cared enough to try. Damen was different. Or at least, he triggered different reactions within Laurent.

It must be a vacation thing. He’d read about that, all right. Holiday romances. Beach-side flings. Cruise-ship orgies. And that was before you consider what the under twenty-three crowd get up to. Sometimes, the world took the body somewhere new. Spring fever. Christmas goodwill. He had not let himself personally experience anything of the sort.

God.

Disney Magic was real.

He had touched on this while drinking a cocktail in souvenir glass shaped like a ‘tiki face’(which he subsequently purchased for the same price as four good quality glasses in any store) with Auguste their first day here.

“Can you believe,” he had said, “That I am not finding every aspect of this manufactured reality absolutely terrible? Is there something in the air? I bet they pump in happy gas with the customised scents?”

“We are in the most adult place in the whole resort,” Auguste said, with a nod to themed bar.

“I know. I did the research.”

“You’ve had two very strong cocktails. Which is more alcohol than you’ve drank in the last three years.”

“Spoilsport. Why are you smiling? You had that same face when the kids saw the castle.”

“I can easily believe you like it here,” said Auguste. “You were the kid who loved magic tricks and fairytales. I remember that sweet boy.”

“Oh,” said Laurent, as blood rushed to his face. “I —”

“Wanna take a selfie? We can embarrass Nicaise.”

“Music to my ears,” Laurent had replied.

His point, which he was making to his own brain, was that he could maybe let his hair down and indulge in some harmless flirting with the spirit of Walt Disney egging him on. Like, what was the point in all that camp if gay guys couldn’t have fun here?

“Can I tell you something?” Damen asked, as the snaked through the final holding area.

“If you must,” Laurent replied. “Just…don’t tell me you have a secret crush on Steven Tyler.”

“Nope. Kurt Cobain was the rockstar to bring about my sexual awakening.”

Laurent flushed. “I don’t think you’re allowed say sexual in Disney World.”

“You just did.” Damen was smiling. “So, here is my confession : I’m scared.”

“We’re all scared.” Laurent was quite sure it was part of the human condition. Why else do people seek out adrenaline rushes in safe places? “It’s quite secure.”

“It’s not…rational. I’ve cliff-dived in Hawaii. I did a bungee jump off the Sydney Harbour Bridge. When I was in middle-school, I briefly ran a Fight  
Club.”

“I think,” Laurent began. “Giving up control can be a difficult thing. It’s one thing being scared, or feeling like your heart will explode, when you’ve brought it on yourself. It’s another beast entirely when someone, or something, has brought you to that state.”

“I guess…”

“Don’t trust my theory?” They were standing very close together. This near to the top of the line, people had a tendency to crowd in close. That said something about the human condition also, but Laurent hadn’t the mental energy to go there. His brain was full of Damen.

“I am not looking to disprove it,” Damen replied. “But…for me, maybe I’ve just never done things alone before. And I don’t…ignore me. Everyone gets freaked out at this point, right? It’s the point. The pay people to amp up the tension. Music and lights and all that stuff.”

He wasn’t wrong, either. The atmosphere had shifted. You could feel it — the anticipation and how people fed off each others nerves. There was a strange sensation in Laurent’s chest— like someone was pressing gently on his heart. It was an effort not to fidget. He was painfully aware of  
Damen’s proximity and the superficial enjoyment found in seeing how his shirt fitted so nicely around his shoulders.

“That’s true,” Laurent replied. “And that’s why we pay to do these things.”

“Yeah,” said Damen, distantly. They were reaching the top of the Single Rider line. Headphones Guy was next to be loaded into a cart in the mock parking garage. Then it would be them. But it would happen separately and perhaps at a lengthy interval. They would exit alone. Laurent would try make his Fastpass and, failing that, go back to his hotel and decide against telling his brother about this flirtation. “I wish…”

“What?”

“That we weren’t in the Single Rider line.” He said it with a bleak smile. Laurent remembered that this was a man recovering from a broken heart. A man who felt alone.

It was almost their turn. Who would go first? Maybe…maybe if it was him, Damen would wait on the other side. Share a bit of small talk. A smile.  
For the first time on his vacation, perhaps for anyone ever in this whole theme park, Laurent wished he wouldn’t be called onto the ride too quickly. But people travelled in odd numbers and a he could see two Cast Members conferring and looking at their line.

“This way, folks,” said Charls, the man from earlier. “Row three. Both of you.”

“Both?”

“Stand there and wait for the gates to open,” Charls said. His waistcoat was very red and his smile very genuine.

Damen said, “Is it true they are not allowed take tips?”

“Yes.” Laurent could not believe his luck, as he planted his feet on the number on the ground. “But I think you can do something at guest services to commend a good Cast Member.”

“That’s my next stop.” His smile was brighter than the fake car headlights.

Oh. OK.

Laurent smiled back.

Disney World was so much fun.

There was no elegant way to clamber into the vehicle. Dignity went out the window when it came to lowering a restraint and allowing Charls (again!)to ensure it was secure. Laurent had to strain a little to catch Damen’s eye. Their car (limo, sorry Disney,) curved forward, then stopped as the high-pitched sound of Aerosmith assaulted them along with random whoops from other guests. They were left waiting. That was part of the ride. Building anticipation, excitement, as you faced into a dark tunnel was just as important an experience as the twists and turns on the tracks.

Laurent was excited. Damen was exhaling very deliberately.

“Are you all right?” He had to yell to be heard.

“I’m scared,” Damen said.

Damen was huge, muscular, and carried himself with an easy confidence. He didn’t look like that kind of man who was afraid of anything.  
If the panic on his face hadn’t been so real, Laurent might have been amused.

Instead, he acted on impulse and grabbed a stranger’s hand.

A new look, a flash of relief and something like wonder, passed over Damen’s face. Laurent wanted to say something but there was no time. They got the green light and they blasted off on the roller coaster. It was fast, dark and noisy. The music pounded and the tracks and cart made their own sounds. Your body went through the shock and thrills of being propelled through darkness at top speed, in ways it was not used to being pushed. There loops and drops, fakeouts and surprises. Lots of screaming. More laughing.

All those things happened.

Laurent felt them and allowed them to carry him away.

But through all that, he was aware of the warm grip of Damen’s strong hand. He glanced to see his reactions. He felt a joy in his own heart at the exact moment Damen started to enjoy the ride. He found amusement in the yelps that escaped his mouth.

When they glided, breathless and giddy, with windswept hair and dancing eyes, into the the landing zone, Laurent could look nowhere but at Damen’s smiling face.

They hadn’t let go of each other’s hand.

“Well?” asked Laurent, as they waited. “Did you like that?”

“Yes,” said Damen, and it felt like he was answering another question. “Do…”

“Yes?”

“Do you maybe want to go again?”

-

**The next morning**

Laurent couldn’t open his eyes. Well, he could if he forced the mystery residue keeping them shut apart. It was probably sleepgunk but who knew? Perhaps it was the glitter gel the fairy godmothers had used on his nieces hair at the Bippity Boppity Boutique. Anyway, Laurent was completely sure that if wrenched his eyelids apart he would have his retinas singed off by the harsh Florida sun. His head was banging. His mouth was dryer than the artificial sand at Typhoon Lagoon and tasted nastier than one imagined the water at It’s a Small World to be.

He could only hope he hadn’t gone all Lizard Queen last night.

Fact : there had been alcohol.

Fact : he was alone in his bed.

Fact : his mouth was a little bit swollen.

He was face down, almost fully-clothed and there was a set of sparkly Mickey Mouse ears hanging off the bedpost.

Like anyone waking up with a hangover, Laurent fumbled for his phone. He found it under his pillow and rolled on to his side see if there was any evidence of….the night before. He ignored the usual notifications from the vacation Whatsapp group to see if had a new contact saved. (He did not.) Oh, well. It’s not like he was going to marry Damen. It’s not like he couldn’t find him online if he tried hard enough. No snap stories, but that wasn’t his habit anyway.

Next, he braved the camera roll. There were lots of pictures and at sight of the first selfie of himself and Damen, a million memories came flooding back. They had gone on the roller coaster again. Then the Tower of Terror. Then Star Wars, which caused some motion sickness which could only be cured by a Long Island Iced Tea in the lounge attached to the place with the mean waitresses. The alcohol was strong. Laurent could see the flush in his cheeks in the pictures. One drink hadn’t been enough. They strolled over to Epcot where they had beer in England, cheese soup in Canada; shared a Grand Marnier slush in France, a funnel cake in America and nachos, churros and margaritas in Mexico.

He had not made their dinner ADR and suffered through Nicaise flinging the meaning of Ohana back in his face.

Then…back to the resort and the luxury of being able to see the fireworks from Laurent’s balcony and grabbing snacks from the Club Level lounge. Damen had kissed him there. He remembered. It went on for some time, long after the fireworks had fizzled out. Laurent felt a fizz in his veins at the recollection. He brought a finger to his own mouth and pressed the puffy lips.

But that was last night.

This was morning and he had to go back to family vacation mode.

And what better to bring him back to reality than incessant knocking on the adjoining door between his and Auguste’s rooms.

“Come in,” he called and Nicaise and Auguste piled in. “What?”

“Told you,” said Nicaise, with a glare at Auguste.

“Told him what?” Laurent stretched out under the sheets.

“That you would join us for breakfast,” Auguste supplied. “Hey, can I use your bathroom real quick. Mine is occupied.”

“They still can’t get the glitter out,” Nicaise explained. “Hennie is screaming. Thank God I stole your Bose headphones on the plane.”

“You said I left them in the seatback pocket!”

Across the room, Auguste opened the door to Laurent’s bathroom. And froze.

“Sorry!” His voice hadn’t been that high since before Laurent was born.

“Oh shiiiittt,” Nicaise whooped. “There’s a dude in your bathroom wearing nothing but Mickey ears.”

Laurent, briefly, thought about throwing himself off the balcony. Do something do liven up that Disney death statistic.

Except they were only on the third floor.

Except Damen had stayed the night.

And he was an adult, perfectly allowed to have any number of naked men in his life without having to explain himself to his flummoxed brother and gleeful nephew. Or, you know, one naked man.

“That’s Damen,” Laurent said. “He’s shy.”

Auguste gaped.

“No, I’m not.” Damen strolled out of the bathroom. Thankfully, he was wearing a robe. Thankfully, Laurent had sprung for a room that provided robes. The ears were sadly missing. “You must be Auguste and Nicaise. Hey. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He even offered his hand, which Auguste shook with a dazed expression. Nicaise stood halfway behind Auguste. He was actually shy, behind the bluster, and very wary.

“No offense,” Nicaise said. “But I don’t think you were in there long enough to wash your hands.”

“None taken. But I assure you my hygiene is perfect.”

“We’ll just…” Auguste ushered Nicaise towards the door.

“Auguste,” Laurent called. “I don’t think I’ll be joining you for breakfast after all. Give my regards to Tigger.” The door was hastily shut and Damen was bouncing onto the bed with such enthuiasm Laurent nearly catapulted off. “Hey,” he protested. “You’re the weight of a boulder. I’m a small bean.”

“No, you’re not.” Damen grinned, almost in appreciation.

“You’re right. I am but normal sized. You are the giant amongst us.”

“Hmmmm.” Damen, along with that contented noise, flopped onto the pillow and pulled Laurent half onto his considerable chest. Had anyone else done that, at any time, Laurent would have seized up. But he was on vacation and Damen smelled so good and it wasn’t a difficult thing to relax into his embrace.

“Last night…”

“Was amazing.”

“Naturally. You were with me.” Laurent aimed for lightness. “But did we…I just want to make sure.”

Damen’s voice was careful when he answered. “We made out a lot on your balcony.”

“I remember.”

“And on the sofa. And here in this bed. Then you commanded I unlace your sneakers, unclip your magic band and we fell asleep,” Damen said.

“I…I understand why you asked. You were drunk.”

“I don’t drink much.”

“I gathered. But I would never…”

“I know.” Laurent did know, as soon as the words came out. “I had a really good time.” It felt like a massive confession and it was easier to speak into Damen’s chest than look at his face. The perception that Damen was on the rebound, that this was a holiday fling, was difficult to shake despite recalling all they had discussed the night before. Once you talk about family and conflict and hopes for the future, admit that your heart is doing things in your chest it never has before, you lose the pretense of casual.

Laurent had never been one for casual flings. He could, of course, handle them. He could handle anything.

But wasn’t true intimacy nicer?

“Me too,” Damen said. “I never thought I could laugh so much. I never thought I could feel so...silly, or I don't know, carefree.….It’s not like this for me normally. I’ve been called shallow or…detached. I don’t know.”

Laurent’s skin was flushed from cheek to chest.

“Magic,” he said, with a deprecating little laugh.

Damen hummed in agreement.

“So…” His hand was stroking Laurent’s hair. His close proximity was causing all sorts of sensations in Laurent’s body. “Would you maybe want to do it again?”


End file.
